In a recent edition of the New York Review of Books, the following ad appeared in Marketplace:
FOR SALE: Saul Bellow’s Desk $10,000 Victorian mahogany roll top, leather writing surface, pigeonholes. Part of the furniture of his house, appears in book jacket photo. Details.
An email address with the last name of Bellow followed the ad. I answered it.
Why?
I was curious.
And the seller, whom I’m assuming is his son Daniel, wrote right back. At first I pretended to be interested. And in a way, if I had ten grand to blow in such a way, I would be. I’ve always wanted a roll top desk. Also, could talent rub off? I have read somewhere in a feng shui book that one should be careful when buying second hand furniture. The vibrational waves of the previous owner are contained in the intimate belongings. Obviously, we don’t if we can help it, ever wear other people’s underpants. But a chair, think of how much intimate contact a chair has had with its owner.
Unwashed encounters, I might add…
A desk too, has been facing the heart of the person who sits behind it. If I had to pick five major male writers of the last century, Bellow wouldn’t be on my list. Not even if the list were major Jewish male writers of the last century. But I did like him, and I did read Henderson the Rain King, Humboldt’s Gift and a few others and thought they were great. (He also translated I.B. Singer who is on the top of most of my little lists.)
Would I want to sit at Saul Bellow’s desk? Maybe, if it could rub off some of its confidence, some of its zest for life. For he was a zesty writer. A passionate writer. I like all that.
Why do you want to sell his desk? I emailed.
He wrote back, I need a new kiln. The writer of the email and the owner of the desk is a potter in Great Barrington, Mass. The desk was left to him in his father’s will. He told me that.
In my next email, I ratted myself out and said, I really couldn’t afford the desk, and also didn’t think the NYRB was a very good place to sell that desk.
After that I didn’t hear back.
I have on good account, if you pay enough, you can rent the Sistine Chapel for fifteen minutes or half an hour. I just did a search. And in fact, private viewings of the Sistine Chapel are on sale online. From $369.71 USD (per person), your group of 15 can have the Chapel. That makes the experience for a plutocrat and his/her date, at roughly half the price of owning the famous roll top owned by the Nobel Laureate for life!
Everything has a price, of course.
I applaud the heir of that desk for parting with a famous piece of memorabilia to buy something for himself.
For my own part, never having had an engagement ring or any diamonds to speak of, in the past few years, I’ve inherited two diamond rings in a short period of time. I wear one (with the larger diamond and the prettier setting) and keep the other one in my underwear drawer; afraid to have it reset for something I’d like a whole lot better, like a necklace or something. It belonged to my grandmother whom I loved, and who loved the ring.
Love, superstition, desire to be close to the owner of the relic? None of the above, all of the above?
Saturday I received my new edition of the New York Review of Books and the ad wasn’t repeated. So I guess I was wrong and the NYRB was a good place to sell the famous desk.
My ring is still in my underwear drawer, though I bought a bowl from the potter’s website for 99 bucks. Here’s a link to it: danielbellow.com. Talent obviously runs in the family.
I hope he gets his new kiln!
by 
